


Intersections

by thebigbengal



Series: We Are All Each Other's Homes (Sibling!AU) [2]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Domestic Disputes, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Letters, Medical Trauma, Nightmare Fuel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25133698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebigbengal/pseuds/thebigbengal
Summary: Bits and pieces of events taking place before and after We Are All Each Other's Homes (Part I).
Relationships: Annie Blackburn/Dale Cooper, Dale Cooper & Laura Palmer
Series: We Are All Each Other's Homes (Sibling!AU) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820566
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters are much shorter than the previous part. I have not put individual specific warnings in each summary, so bare that in mind, particularly for the last chapter.

July 30th, 1984

Annie,

Please, god, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I don’t know what’s been wrong with me lately. If you can find it in yourself to forgive me, please know that I will never say any of those things again.

Yours,

Dale

[Voicemail]

Hi Annie. I’m just checking in.

Please answer back.

I love you.

…

I love you, Annie.


	2. Chapter 2

1977

Coach Michael Roy called the ambulance upon hearing that senior year Dale Palmer collapsed in the middle of jumping jacks and was barely breathing. Oddly, no one else panicked, rather sharing concerned whispers and calling his name repetitively, thinking this was some bizarre prank. Two boys thought it funny to poke him and joke about how lucky they’ll be if he died. 

“I hear if you croak on campus, they give everyone A’s for the semester!”

“Shut the fuck up, Darren!”

“Wasn’t our CPR course supposed to prepare us for this shit?”

“I don’t think that works on asthmatics.”

Junior year Alissa Browning propped Dale against her torso, explaining that holding the person upright in the middle of an attack helps ease breathing. With his head limply rested on her shoulder and her arms around his waist, most everyone burst into a fit of laughter. “You couldn’t wait to cop a feel, could you Lisa?” But she ignored them, instead focused on Dale’s paling complexion.

To Coach Roy’s perplexity, Sarah Palmer arrived at the school just as he made the call. Her eyes like a cat’s, fixed on their goal of getting to the field, teachers right behind her and trying to grab hold. The laughter died into whispers again as Sarah snatched Dale away from Alissa and silently held him while the ambulance arrived outside of the fence. It looked like a serious-but-manageable asthma attack, until the breathing stopped, and Sarah broke her silence with hysterics. 

It intrigued Laura to see how quiet and still Dale was, given how she hardly ever saw him when he wasn’t awake, though holding dark circles under his eyes and clearly teetering on the edge of consciousness. If he was ever the last one in the house to wake up, and Laura got the exciting opportunity to jump on him until he opened his eyes, she’d go in there to find the blankets half off the bed, drool on the pillow, his mouth weirdly moving to say some gibberish, leg sticking over the side and generally about to fall off the bed altogether. If they shared a bed, one of them was always on the floor. How unsettling to see him like this, on the brink of death, and dare she think it, strangely peaceful. 

Their Grandma Dot looked equally so in her casket, without the burden of all those annoying tubes. When you’re a small child, your mind will conjecture all kinds of concepts only adults will find disturbing, but children must contemplate because how else will they learn about the world. She couldn’t have predicted her mother would break down in ugly sobs when asked if Dale was happier sleeping forever. Whatever forever really meant. Laura’s logic crumpled when she realized that, when Dale did indeed not wake up the next day, or the day after, forever entailed exactly what it said on the tin. And Laura would most definitely never see forever, and neither would Dale, because if he didn’t wake up, they’d have to put him in a box underground just like Grandma. And maybe one day Laura would go in a box too, and this made Laura scream and cry and cling to her father. 

"I don't want to go in a box!" 

Several nights of monsters lurking around her room brought another dreadful thought, that Dale was locked in his nightmares and couldn’t leave by simply getting out of bed. Her parents somehow assumed telling her that he was in a different kind of sleep, one without dreams, would help, but it didn’t do anything but make her cry more and throw fits in the middle of the hospital wing. After all, if he wasn’t in his dreams or nightmares, where could he have gone? And was he safe there? Was he safe from _him?_ Laura knew _she_ wasn’t.

She heard her mother whisper into his ear, “I should have never brought you here.” A mournful confession he’d thankfully never hear. On that day was when Laura had it explained that Dale was from another family, and not originally theirs. This did not make him any less her brother or their parents’ child, and Sarah made certain to get this through to Laura before she cried again.

The walls of the black bedroom carried the pitiful sounds of her parent’s making love down the hall. She knew that was the case, because she remembered Dale telling her this when they couldn’t sleep some nights ago. Most children would find that disturbing, but funny in a way. Her head evaluated the phrase “make love,” the word “love” at odds with the bizarre moaning and groaning that hearkened to pained animal noises she might hear emanating from the woods. The life of adults seemed so miserable that even love sounded wrong.

An owl’s wings flapped against the window, causing Laura to jump and hide beneath her blankets. Though the blinds were drawn, the bothersome bright street lamp cast demonic shadows on the floor through the slits of the blinds. The owl swooped down from a tree branch and picked up a mouse that shrieked high pitched and morphed with the low moans in the walls. Not even the blankets could swallow them up, so Laura resided to wait it out. The shrieking died away and the shadows with it, meaning the owl flew off with its meal. Then the groaning stopped abruptly, returning the house to silence.


	3. Chapter 3

December 13th, 1985

Dear Laura,

I know what I am doing does not appear to make sense, but understand that I am not leaving Twin Peaks with the intent of putting distance between us, Mom, or Dad. I promise I have my reasons, all with the best intentions for this family. 

I cannot deny any longer that the things we saw in that house and that the things we dreamed as children were real. Whether concoctions of mental stress, wild imaginations, or genuine physical manifestations of our restless souls, they existed and I believe there is a cause behind it. Laura, I can’t tell you anymore than this. For your own safety. This won’t be forever.

Your brother,

Dale


	4. Chapter 4

1983

The discourse of Douglas Milford and Andrew Packard coincidentally scheduling their weddings for the same evening drew trouble for an incredible lawsuit that the top lawyers of Twin Peaks - namely Leland Palmer - leapt for like lions on the Serengeti. Both parties offered ludicrous amounts of cash for whoever signed on and won them the case. Before either Andrew or Douglas could get back to Leland on their status, he was already fingering the Ford catalogs for a new convertible with an automated top, VCRs, a turntable, and whatever bicycle Laura had her eye on. Tragically, the conflict was anticlimactically resolved between the grooms over Guinness and coffee before anyone was hired, Andrew’s wedding in the evening, Douglas in the morning. 

Hardly anyone was happy to attend two weddings in one Saturday, the Palmers in particular, with Sarah sadly regarding her counter top, empty of a new chrome toaster oven, Leland obviously missing out on a pay day, and Laura who got her hopes up too soon. The Great Northern reserved the sitting area right by the falls, keeping staff around the clock on their toes, for once the first wedding ended, they had to get set and rearrange the decor exactly to the next party’s liking, on top of preparing the wildly different food and wine items. Ben Horne sported a smile grander than either Douglas and his umpteenth bride, or Andrew and his bride, his dreams only of the checks he’d see in the mail in the coming days.

Sarah herded her husband and daughter into their best dress. As despondent as Laura was, to see her father in equal low spirits for once, and not desiring to show off a newly dry cleaned suit was a refreshing change-up. Everything accounted for, except for the oldest child, who no longer lived with them. 

“Did you call him?”

“He said he’ll meet us there.”

The Milford ceremony moved at a pleasant pace, bride and groom skimming their vows to get to the wine and honeymoon suite. The only interruptions being Douglas’s brother and mayor, Dwayne, shouting as loud as his old lungs would allow, before tuckering himself out, and Audrey Horne’s rather audible giggles during the couples over-enthused kiss. Laura’s eyes waded over the crowd for a sign of her brother. Once the attendees were allowed to stand and eat, she spotted him right away. Dale wore navy blue flairs, a sports coat and a white button up without a tie. He was hardly the least formal person there - that would be Jerry Horne in a sweater, jeans, and suspenders - but it didn’t stop his parents from immediately commenting on it. 

“Honey.”

“Yes?”

“Where’s your tie?”

“Left it at home.”

“Flares? This is a wedding, not an Allman Brothers concert!”

“The invites said formal to business casual, I went for the latter.”

"Did Annie not want to come?"

"She wasn't feeling well."

While Douglas and his new wife, young enough to be his granddaughter, ran off to their limousine, their families slowly following in their own cars, while several guests remained and the staff worked around them.

In the two hours leading to the next ceremony, Laura in her frills and slippers wandered off up the hill, leaving her argumentative family to their devices, and to the tree line away from the edge of the falls, over the rocks, farther and farther from the tent.

Twin Peaks fell behind her as a distant memory and the sheer height of the Washington mountains came into perspective as the blue-green horizon stretched out and surrounded her. The water below swirled in deep blue and white shapes, the fuzzy noise of the crashing water over the cliffs fading out. All alone and so very high, she declared herself queen of the Pacific, and thought that she should stay up there forever so she wouldn’t have to sit through another wedding. Queens don’t have to do what their parents tell them.

Then, what she thought initially was a tree hit with light in a strange way, the closer she got, revealed the tree to be a tall man in an old suit. Her fantasy deflated when she realized someone else stood on the mountain, another party guest wanting to get away. But when she squinted for a closer look, the man had an unreadable, unseeable face, either because he stood so far away, the sun struck his features with blinding rays or, in Laura’s wild immature imagination, he had no face to speak of. As quickly as she noticed the man, his form blinked from existence, replaced by an actual tree. Laura turned around her to find the unwelcome dizzying height she climbed.

Down the mountain rang a high pitched scream, too mechanical for a human to make. Her father’s voice sang out to her. He was quickly climbing up the hill, her brother behind him and her mother watching below. The distance between her and the sitting area was not nearly as high as she just saw, as if the mountain scrunched up while her back was turned. She carefully slid down the rocks and Leland carried her the rest of the way. Guests and staff clumped up around the roadside by the hotel. A station wagon, completely empty, careened down the turn and crashed. They asked back and forth who the car belonged to and no one claimed it, then someone loudly complained that this is "just what this day needed."

On the dot, Andrew and his family arrived, he and his brother-in-law Pete, doubling as his best man raving with glee (and a bit drunk), while Josie, adorned in a lavish white bridal gown, wearing something of a pained grin, as if her soon-to-be sister-in-law Catherine were telepathically squeezing her arm. Catherine's hands gripped a Jack Daniels that possibly represented Josie's neck. 

The ceremony moved sloppily fast, as the tipsy groom giggled while the bride struggled through her vows, botching English pronunciation and syntax. Catherine threw back shot after shot and her mouth curled into a sadistic smile when the priest declared them man and wife, for Josie's face momentarily revealed the faintest hint of displeasure right before their lips met. The new couple ran off, Catherine retreated to the Great Northern bar, and Pete and Dale stood around the station wagon, eyeing its tires and steering wheel.

Ben stood beside them, “No need gentlemen, we’ll have this thing towed. And whoever left their gear shift unattended will pick it up.”

“Looks like a brake line snapped.” Noted Pete.

Dale backed up, analyzing in the whole scene. 

The girls and women whined that Josie did not throw the bouquet. Nadine Hurley snatched one from a table arrangement and chucked it in the air, for it to land in Laura's unwitting hands. The older women "awwed" at her, and the girls her age huffed. Donna Hayward impishly poked and prodded for who she thinks the lucky man would be, and Laura's eyes reflexively wandered around to spot Bobby Briggs stuffing his face with cake. She shook her head and passed the bouquet to Donna, telling her to "deal with that."

The sun fell lower in the sky. By now, most everyone had left, except the Palmers. Leland spoke with Jerry Horne and Sarah smoked a pack by the altar. Dale looked up and down the abandoned car, with Laura watching him, then the mountain side that caught a hint of sunlight while everything else was shaded. Ben Horne walked over to her and pulled up a chair. He invited Laura onto his lap and pulled out a silver dollar. "Don't tell your parents about this," he winked.

By the time the sun had fully set, and the street lights came on. Leland and Sarah got to their car. Dale arrived by himself in his own car, so he was in no rush to leave, taking his time pondering the crash. Laura prepared to approach him, realizing they hadn't said much to each other all day. He turned around and Leland called Laura to get in. As they pulled out, Dale's face faded behind them, his eyes briefly catching Laura's.


	5. Chapter 5

September 23rd, 1986

Dear Laura,

I live in Seattle now. My occupation can’t be specifically divulged, but you should know that it is related to law enforcement. Mom told me you took up Meals on Wheels. That’s very good and I’m proud. We should all take any opportunity to help our fellow man. You’re gonna be rolling your eyes as you read this, I can already tell, but I really am proud. When I was in high school, I was far more focused on grades and careers than community service. If I could - God help my soul - go back in time and repeat those four years, that’s something I would change. I’ve also heard that you are officially dating Bobby and he’s captain of the football team. I'm very happy for you both.

I have to confess, there have been times when I doubted the legitimacy of my place as a Palmer. I remember my birth parents clearly, and I do miss them. Sometimes I looked at Mom and thought how weird it was to think of her as such, and then feel awful about it because she tried so hard for me. And Dad, I firmly believe that he tried to the best of his ability. It just... didn’t take as well.

But you, I have no doubt in my mind, are my little sister, and nothing will ever change that. I wonder what my life would be like had I never been adopted, and I think of it as lesser because you wouldn’t be there. I love you, and I know you hate me for this, but all of this will fall into place, you’ll see. I haven’t forgotten my promise.

Your brother,  
Dale


	6. Chapter 6

1977

He couldn’t care about how much noise he was making. The suitcase thumped down the stairs haphazardly, coupled with the thundering stomps of his father on his heels. By the time he unlocked the door he could hear his mother move around in her room. If he were quick, Laura might not wake up until after the car swings out of the drive through. But Sarah caught them and gave chase, shouting for him to be reasonable, pleas that he swallowed hard to ignore. 

Leland’s and Sarah’s voices sharpened like knives, cutting in different ways. Sarah broke down and struggled for a grip on her son and husband. Leland aimed to shock into realization of the stupidity of Dale’s actions, as if eight years of mistakes could be rewritten in a single afternoon. Dale had a feeling that if he turned around to look him in the eye, he’d see an unforgettable scowl confirming that every shred of love had been conditional, and those conditions were about to be broken.

A third voice appeared, quiet and confused from sleep, slowly registering the situation at hand. Laura hollered and sobbed until she went hoarse while Sarah held her close.

That night he drove to Annie’s. She lived with her sister Norma, out that night seeing a friend, and they shared the futon. He appeared on her doorstep disheveled and weary, and she wasted no time yanking him into a long kiss. Despite himself, they spent hours enveloped in one another, tonguing and pausing to come up for air and going back down again. Any want or need to stop was tossed aside, Dale forcing himself to stay in the rhythm and Annie agreeing to keep going for his sake. Then he pulled back.

“There are empty places in Southstone up for rent. Brad Lesley lives there. I can likely move in with him if I’m persuasive enough, until I get my own place, which shouldn’t take too long.”

“I don’t think you should live in Southstone, there’s always something going on over there.”

“Then what then?”

“Stay here, or... I know the Calhouns are renting out their cabin by Pearl Lake.”

“I can’t stay on Pearl Lake, and I doubt Norma would appreciate my residence here.”

“Are you sure you can’t… make amends?” He squinted at her words, unsure if he heard that right. “Or wait a semester for college!” she rebounded.

“I’ve made up my mind, Annie.”

“I think you’re making a mistake. You don’t have a place of your own and you don’t have a means of leaving Twin Peaks-”

“Who said I wanted to leave?”

“I-”

“Leaving town is exactly what Leland would want and I can hear him now, ranting to his buddies after work. And Mom.”

“Is college what he wanted too?”

“No…” he thought for a moment and rubbed his face, “I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Sounds like it.”

“ _About school_. I’m not even sure what I want to do with a degree.”

“FBI.” Annie said. After watching his eyebrows furrow, she asked, “what did Sarah say?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t listening.”

“And Laura?”

Dale then rolled over and glued his gaze to the white ceiling that belonged to someone else’s house and not his, his house likely turbulent with shouting, or suppressed with deafening silence. And the small, cherry red, distressed, and wet face disappearing in his rear view mirror burned in the black of his eyelids every time he shut them.

He was still in Twin Peaks, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s really not.

Annie rested her head in his chest and kissed the bottom of his chin. Her skin felt like home. “You and me right?” he asked.

“You and me. Once the Double R pays off, I’ll call everyday from school.”

“Right.”

“And you can hide in my place.”

“From your roommate?”

“Or I can kick her out,” they laughed together.


	7. Chapter 7

Dear Dale,

As I write this, I’m not sure what to feel or what to say. I can’t even say that I read your letters all the way through. But I can’t keep so much of this to myself any longer. Jupiter is dead. Hit by a car. I found out on my sixteenth birthday that I am pregnant. Seven and a half weeks to be exact, now nine and a half. I do not know who the father is, if that paints enough of a picture of my life right now. Come back. Please. Dad’s not that upset anymore. I’m pretty sure he even misses you. Mom is beside herself. She smiles and sounds normal, but often I see her drift off into space like usual and come back thinking you’re still here. You were always her favorite. I don’t know what the fuck you did that I didn’t, but she loves you. Dad loves me now, did you know? He loves me more than he’ll ever love you, I think. Are you jealous?

I can’t believe anything you tell me anymore. If you kept your promise, then get back here. Or maybe you’re too much of a coward to do that. Are you afraid of me? Is that why you keep abandoning me, because I’m vile and I’ll only tempt you just by being? I’m seeing Dr. Jacoby, and I think he’s in love with me. I could tell you aaaaall about the things he’s said to me. Ben Horne… I haven’t seen him in a while. I’m still reading to Johnny, but I feel weird about Ben. Still… I know it’d be easy to get him to like me like that. No one likes you. 

[This letter was torn apart].

_GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!_

_What the hell, what the hell, what the HELL?!_

_This isn’t my hand!_

Dear Dale,

I miss you. Please come back.

[Torn apart]

September, 1987

Dear Dale,

I hope you are doing well. We all miss you.

Your sister,

Laura


	8. Chapter 8

This was not a mirror before him. The reflection blinked and moved by its own will, and smiled when Dale’s own mouth did no such thing. 

Jaws opened wide, first of a long woman, then a man, and joined with his mouth. The other Dale floated in place, leaned against the flower wallpaper that rippled like blinking eyes and murmuring lips.

He writhed for some slack of the creature so he could escape, but the deeper its tongue swam, the pressure of its hands, made for a gut wrenching feeling that he nearly enjoyed it. It lulled him away from the intense reds and wanted to please, make him complacent. Not a worry in the world, or anyone to guard. Erase.

The smile of the other Dale looked haphazardly painted on and his eyes glassy and full of nothing. 

_That_ voice cut his ears.

**_Drink and never thirst again._ **

He closed his throat and the tongue fought back.

**_Drink and breathe me in. The smoke of forests…_ **

He bared his teeth and battled for his jaw to listen and snap shut.

**_She and you, like silk…_ **

_ Get off. _

**_See her face and let me in._ **

_ Get off of me! _

The other Dale, encased under the flowers of the walls, vanished and the room shifted from one angle to another, from red to blue, the pressure finally alleviated. Two lights, one from a hallway and another from a lamp, illuminated a scene of a struggling figure that looked just like the other Dale, without the smile, and nurses surrounding him, trying to coax him back to stability with injections and restraints. 

1985

This Dale watched safely from the corner, thinking that Dale should be him, and how sad and funny that would be if it were. 

No mirrors. 

The nurses left once the Dale settled down and was pulled back to a numb trance. Gone were the lights, drenching the room in blue and black. The wall behind this Dale softened and the view in front of him fell away and transformed into the hospital ceiling. Arms, legs, and waist strapped in place. His eyelids felt closed, but the ceiling was still in his view. He wondered how much longer until the sun rose.


End file.
